Judgment

I was recently accused of being judgmental. At first it ruffled my feathers. I needed to defend myself against the despicable accusation that had been tossed my way--one that threatened my benevolent character and could possibly mar my good name. This opened the floodgates for an attack as I felt like tiny little arrows had been shot at me and I had no shield, no way to defend myself, nowhere to run. I fell to the ground, injured but not shattered, though I did take quite a blow. Then, I found my strength, assessed the damage and planned my next move.

I healed my wounds with a mixture of  flower petals and fairy dust, and then decided to bravely face my accuser. Let me judge myself to see if I am, indeed, a judge of others.

Will I judge you if you think hungry kids are okay or if you kick little puppies or if you get rich by harming others? Yes, I will.

How about if you spray poison on the food of humanity or ruin our environment or molest little children. Or dehumanize those different from you or pepper-spray free-speechers or call poor people deadbeats or  homosexuals faggots.

If you force acculturation on American Indian children or line your pockets with gold and fill your belly with food by riding on the backs of those less fortunate than you. Will I judge you then? Yes. Absolutely. 

If you believe life is precious only while in the womb, beat up your partner, cut off the genitals of little girls or thump a bible in the name of hatred or violence, I will judge you. If you beat your children, steal what is not yours or practice perversion while claiming righteousness, I will judge you.

Well, it looks like my accuser was right. I am judgmental.

And in honor of Wing Biddlebaum and all the other lonely, ostracized, dehumanized, hungry people of the world, I will continue to judge people who invite my scrutiny through their hideous words and deeds.